


Hiding

by defeatedbyabridge



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defeatedbyabridge/pseuds/defeatedbyabridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy can't cope.</p><p>Written for the lovely fleurdeleo many moons ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding

"He's been in there for ten hours straight," Christine said soberly, arms folded. She cast a glance at the window to the lab, which showed McCoy bent over a microscope. "I took him a tray of food at lunchtime; coffee, fried chicken, and two apples. He sniffed at the coffee and didn't touch the rest." 

Kirk nodded. "I see. You don't have any idea why?"

Christine sucked her lower lip between her teeth, suddenly unsure of herself. She'd known she had to tell the captain about McCoy. It was her duty to let the captain exercise *his* duty in caring for McCoy's wellbeing, as McCoy's superior officer and as his friend. 

But she didn't know just how much she could tell. What did he know already? "Uh - Captain, this is only speculation," she began.

"And you don't want to betray a confidence," Kirk continued, smiling in spite of his obvious worry. "That's understandable, Ms Chapel. If McCoy continues to push himself and continues to refuse to talk, I may have to order you to tell me everything. But at this stage, just tell me what you can." 

Christine nodded. "Well, he has that old-style calendar on his wall. 'Calvin and Hobbes', I believe. I don't know where he finds these things. Anyway, today's date is circled, and there's a notation underneath - 'J'."

Kirk slumped back against the wall. "Ohhhh. . . I see. His ex-wife, Jocelyn. It must be her birthday today. Damn. I forgot this was coming up."

Christine picked up her padd from the table, delicately trying to extract herself from the situation. She was close to McCoy but there were some things that were best discussed between best friends. "I should get back to work, Captain, but thank you. For his sake." 

"Thank you, Ms Chapel," Kirk said. He knocked on the door to the lab. McCoy didn't move. Kirk knocked again, then opened the door. 

Christine carefully looked away. If Leonard chose to confide in her later, she'd listen, but she didn't want to invade his privacy. 

She called up her duties for the afternoon on the padd. First on the list was to check Toppelle's blood pressure. She was pregnant, expecting a normal Cetari litter of six, and her blood pressure had skyrocketed this morning. Looked like labour was imminent. 

* * *

"WHAT, Jim," McCoy said finally as he turned around. 

"At least I have your attention." Kirk tried to exude calm and ease, his Trustworthy Uncle Jim posture. He hoicked one hip up on the lab table, careful to avoid the clutter of test tubes and beakers and things he couldn't identify. "Bones, you're worrying me. You're worrying Ms Chapel. You can't hide yourself away like this and expect no one to notice."

McCoy's face was grubby. His chin was covered with stubble and there were dark circles under his eyes. "Maybe if you just left me the hell alone I'd come out by myself," he snarled. 

"Not if you starve first," Kirk said calmly. "Then you'd be a rotting, stinking puddle on the floor, and the cleaners would complain. You stink bad enough already." He pulled out the stool next to McCoy and straddled it. McCoy sighed, changed something on his computer - he seemed to be looking at DNA samples from a Rigellian, though Kirk couldn't've sworn to it - and rolled his eyes. At least now he was in 'listen to the lecture' mode. 

"Bones, you've been stuck in here for 12 hours straight. You need to get out. Get some fresh recirculated air. EAT, dammit."

"I'm fine," McCoy said. "I'll come out when I'm ready." 

He wasn't going to admit it without pushing. So Kirk pushed. "You can't hide away every time it's Jocelyn's birthday." 

McCoy shot him a look, and for an instant all defences were down. McCoy was shocked, sad. Haggard. Then he looked down, and exhaled in a big gust. "Yeah. . . Jocelyn's birthday. Gets me this way every year. Sorry." 

Kirk put a hand on his arm, feeling the tension and slight trembling. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

McCoy shook his head resolutely. "Not right now, no, but thanks. Gimme an hour to finish up, then I promise I'll come out." 

Kirk stood, feeling like he'd accomplished something, at least. "I'll hold you to that, Doctor. I'll set Ms Chapel on you otherwise." 

"As long as you keep Spock away, you've got a deal." McCoy shuddered theatrically. 

* * *

Exactly fifty-nine minutes later, the door was pushed open and Spock entered. McCoy covered his eyes. "What the hell do *you* want?" he demanded. "Did Jim send you? I've still got a whole damn minute." 

"No, he did not send me," Spock said, looking with distaste at the mess on the table. "I came at Ms Chapel's request, Doctor. She asked that I examine a malfunctioning tricorder. I merely happened to observe you in here." 

"So she's meddling now, too, huh." McCoy sighed. "The whole damn ship's conspiring against me." 

"No conspiracy, Doctor. May I remind you that Vulcans do not lie." Spock pulled out the same stool that Kirk had inhabited, and lowered himself onto it. 

"Then I feel obliged to remind you, that Vulcans - especially damn pointy-eared first officer Vulcans - have been known to dissemble, hedge, prevaricate, and evade."

Spock ignored the insult and raised an eyebrow. "I believe it is Jocelyn's birthday today," he said quietly. "I also believe I am not the person in this room who has practiced evasion today." 

McCoy grimaced, rubbing his eyes. It didn't escape his notice that his hands shook when he took them down again. Dammit. Getting old. "It *is* her birthday, Spock," he said. "Jim doesn't have to know that she's not why I'm. . . hiding." 

"There was nothing you could have done, Doctor," Spock said carefully. "Jackson told you he had taken his vaccination pills, when he had not done so."

McCoy stood explosively, throwing a hand up. "I should've checked, Spock! I knew he had a phobia about pills - I should've checked, or figured out a way to make it into a hypo, or something, or told Jim not to put him on the landing party - then he would've been all right." 

He was silent a moment, staring at the wall, reliving that awful day. A landing party to Morismo Six, to follow up traces of dilithium and make contact with the culture there. Kirk had been dealing with the exchange party from the planet, on the ship, so Spock was in command. 

McCoy had made damn sure that everyone had been vaccinated against the Yurenza virus, which was prevalent in the Morismo system - something to do with the makeup of the radiation from the sun. Only one in a hundred humans were susceptible anyway, but he'd given the vaccination to everyone in the landing party just in case. 

Except Jackson. 

"It was not your fault, Doctor. If anyone's, the fault was mine. I was in command." 

"He didn't die on you, Spock. He died when I got him back to the ship, when I was swearing over him and at him like a fool, trying everything I could think of to get the redheaded idiot to breathe. But nothing worked." McCoy shook his head. "Not the first patient I've lost. But it never gets any easier."

Spock stood up, facing McCoy. "Which is what makes you a good doctor - Bones. You are not perfect. But you are very careful, and you did everything correctly. Errors can never be entirely removed." 

Spock felt in his pocket and pulled out a padd. "I took the liberty of downloading the field report onto a padd for you, Doctor. I know humans sometimes wish for a form of memorial beyond a service." 

McCoy took it, and met Spock's eyes. All the things Spock would never say were there - well, not really, because eyes are only eyes, after all, but McCoy knew. 

And he'd never say it, either. 

"Th- thank you, Spock. This is very thoughtful." 

"You are welcome," Spock said gravely. "Now, I believe your hour is more than up. When you have showered," and he wrinkled his nose ever so slightly, "you are invited to dinner with the Captain and me." 

"All right," McCoy said, walking towards the door. "That would be good."


End file.
